By Eywa's Grace
by Fiaba
Summary: Hiatus. In the midst of the blazing battle, no-one realised that Trudy's story continued after her Samson took the hit, because she was never going to let Quaritch have the pleasure of being the one who brought her down. Trudy/Norm.
1. The Story Never Ends

**Disclaimer: Alas, I do not own Avatar. I am merely borrowing. **

**Author's Note: Right. So. Yes. I adored Trudy far too much to let the likes of Quaritch snuff her out with one boring missile. There's much more of a story to be told after that explosion. This is Trudy and Norm centric, and it kicks off from when Trudy takes that final blow in the battle. It'll turn out Trudy/Norm, though I'm not **_**entirely **_**sure where I'm going with it. I guess I'm supposed to figure out plots **_**before**_** I start writing, but hey. Enjoy. =)**

"Rogue One is hit. I'm going in. Sorry, Jake."

Death was staring her in the face this time, waiting for her to blink so it could embrace her in its shadowy grasp. Trudy had no chance against the monstrous Dragon which was tilting its launchers towards her craft, almost moving in ominous slow motion as the gunman fired. The deadly missile was on its way.

And that's when the primal instinct to chase survival, no matter what it took, overcame the helplessness and resignation which should have engulfed Trudy. She utilised the seconds she had before the missile hit, leaping from the pilot's seat, seizing her Exopack and throwing herself out of the craft without a moment's hesitation.

She had no parachute. She had no wings. She couldn't stop this last flight and bring herself down to the ground safely, but even as the wind rushed past Trudy in a deafening roar, she wasn't afraid and she didn't regret taking the plunge. Because if she was going to die, then she would damn well rather die in mid-flight than be incinerated by Miles Quaritch. No, there was no way in hell she was going to give him the satisfaction of being the one who sent the missile that finished Trudy Chacon.

It was better this way. Yes, she was falling, falling, falling so fast. Her faithful Samson exploded above her, becoming a fiery inferno before disintegrating in a rain of hot metal, some of which chased her down, brushing her skin and giving her unforgiving burns which she would not feel until later.

It was ironic that this was her end. All her life she had wanted to fly away, to see that the suffering and pain of the Earth could be left behind with a whirr of a rotor blade and the soothing hum of an engine. That was the reason she had signed up for the Pandora project in the first place. How could someone whose heart called her to the highest reach of mankind resist the chance to fly in a brand-new sky? Earth had long since stopped being enough for her, so just like she always did, she flew away.

Now she was plummeting from the great height she had willingly put herself in. Maybe those who climbed so high always had to come back down at some point. It didn't matter, she told herself. The Na'vi were worth this sacrifice, because she knew that she would never have been able to live with herself if she had pulled the trigger and been a part of the destruction of their beautiful world. When the fires blazed on Hometree at the hand of her own comrades, Trudy had felt _shame_. She was ashamed of her own race and its greed, and ashamed of herself for almost being a part of it.

There was no doubt in her heart that what she had done was the right choice. She had known all along that turning against the tide and being the one fighting against a colossal wave would probably sweep her out to sea, but at least she'd barred Quaritch's way for a while. She'd put a few bullet holes in that damned death-ship of his and, above all, she had stomped on his ego by turning on him. Men like him were used to the rest of the world falling at his damned feet, obeying his every command like a mindless pawn, completely incapable of defying the glorified slaughterer.

It would have been a slap round the face and a kick up the ass to have her, Trudy, a lowly pilot who consorted with the scientists, turn her fire on him. And as the air rushed past her and stole her breath, she smiled, safe in the fact that she'd done her duty to the end which was fast approaching with the tree-green blur that grew with each passing moment. There was time for her to register regret that she would never see her loved ones again. Jake, Neytiri, Max... Norm.

_God_, she was leaving Norm behind. She'd become closer to him than she could ever have imagined and it turned out that air and earth really did make for a harmonious combination. In fact, you could say they really went hand in hand. As her vision blurred and she turned over and over in the air, Trudy whispered an apology to him that he would never hear, because it was too late now.

The forest was rushing towards her at dizzying speed; she could see the separate leaves on the tallest trees below her. They could do nothing to help her now. She was going to hit the ground and the final chapter of her life would be completed. She would die instantly and the forest would become her final resting place.

At least, that's what should have happened. But it seemed the Great Mother was unwilling to take back the life energy from the brave pilot who was willingly handing it over. Instead of making the fatal collision with the unforgiving Pandora earth, Trudy fell into the embracing arms of Eywa's forest.

Perhaps embracing was not the word to describe it. The forest only removed the fatality of Trudy's fall; it did not remove the pain or the physical damage. The broad canopy and snaking vines which saved Trudy's life by slowing her fall with less force than she would have had were she to hit the bare ground also tore into her flesh as she tumbled through the foliage, slamming into a branch here, a rock there.

Nothing made sense as she felt herself being tossed about, not knowing which way was up. Her hands grasped at nothing in a futile attempt to hold onto something. A sense of panic overwhelmed Trudy as the distinctive, bold scents of the forest infiltrated her senses. Surely the end was almost upon her?

She was nearly right. Finally, her damaging descent ended as she ricocheted off a series of giant leaves ungracefully, finally hitting the earth with a painful thud.

Consciousness ended there.

* * *

"Spread out! Look for those who have survived! We have to hurry, brothers and sisters! Make sure every corner of the forests is searched."

Norm watched as Jake called the orders out to the gathering made almost solely of Na'vi in a voice roughened by sorrow and loss. The battle was won, but at such great cost. He himself was numb with the shock of it all. It had taken a while for it to sink in, especially since he felt so conflicted. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry, because while the RDA were driven out of Pandora, the soil would be stained with the blood of hundreds all over the forest which had served as a battleground for a battle which should never have happened.

And Trudy was gone.

They told him that she fought to the bitter end, firing upon the Dragon until... Until...

He couldn't bring himself to think about her dying out there in the unfriendly skies alone. All he knew was that his heart ached for her in a way that he hadn't realised he ever would. She had become one of his best friends out here in the hostile world of Pandora, though that tended to happen when you spent three months in a small bunker with a person. It wasn't just that, though. His friendship with Trudy had been so easy, so relaxed. There were some people in life that you met and just _clicked_ with. And you knew you had made a friend for life.

Trudy was one of those friends and _more. _Norm knew somewhere deep inside that there had been something between them, just waiting to ignite. He'd fallen for her quickly, almost unnoticeably, but now it was too late for her ever to know. He didn't know how to handle the loss, especially so soon after losing Grace too. It was like two parts of him had been stolen away and he was only left with a gaping hole. He'd lost his Avatar too, so that was only added salt in the wound because he couldn't bury himself in the Na'vi world now; not while he was in a fragile human state.

Jake had come out of the terrible situation the best, though Norm would never have said a word against him. Besides, Jake did deserve good fortune; he'd put his life on the line for the Na'vi and he'd led them to victory. But Norm had done that too, and it just didn't seem fair that he had lost everything that was precious to him whilst Jake was able to seek solace in the arms of his lifelong mate and comfort from the courage of the People. Jake would always have a place on Pandora now, now he was the Omaticaya _leader._

Norm was left with very little. The world felt a quieter and colder without Trudy's laughter and Grace's dry humour, and he wouldn't see the world again through anything like a native's eyes.

As the graceful direhorse riders and the swooping Ikran hunters embarked on their grim sweep of the forest for survivors, Norm looked on with a heart made heavy with loss. Who didn't know someone who had died today? Not many, that was for sure.

"Norm. Are... Are you all right?" Norm glanced up. It was Max, wandering over cautiously after seeing his friend seated on an old crate, hands in his hair. It was all Norm could do to stop himself from snapping at the scientist for asking a question with such an obvious answer. Norm didn't want to shout and scream though. He liked to think he was rational enough to not act like an idiotic jarhead.

Besides, he was so _tired. _Not just physically, but mentally too. His mind was exhausted with grief, suffering and loss, and this made him just want to sleep until the pain went away. That, unfortunately, wasn't going to be an option, so, letting out a long breath, Norm spoke in a tightly restrained voice.

"I'm... Fine. I'm fine, Max." It was a blatant lie. He wasn't fine. But there was no point in pouring out his heartache to Max, because nothing was going to bring her back. She was _gone. _Trudy was gone and the world wasn't the same. It was imbalanced. It was wrong.

Max seemed to give up there and then, giving Norm a sad sort of smile before nodding and backing away, leaving him alone with his troubled thoughts. Norm felt he should be out helping with the search and doing something positive, but to do so would mean to return to the scene of the battle which had spilled more blood than Pandora would ever have seen before. Besides, he felt he'd seen too much destruction for one lifetime, although his reluctance was perhaps more to do with the cold fear of finding something he didn't want to find.

Someone would find her body eventually. That is, if it was... If it was whole enough to be found. Norm swallowed hard, suddenly hit with an agitation and frustration which led him to push off the crate, turn his back on the united Clans of Pandora and disappear into the RDA base, now transformed mostly into a medical bay to treat the many injuries.

The only humans who were allowed to remain on Pandora besides him were a few medical and science teams whose ties with the RDA were well and truly severed. These people were helping deal with the aftermath of the battle, treating innumerable wounds and starting to repair the damaged world.

If only hearts could be patched up as easily as a broken bone.

Did he want the searchers to find Trudy and bring her body back? He didn't know. It didn't seem right to leave her out in the forest, never laid to rest by the hands of those who loved her. But he didn't want to say goodbye, either. Didn't want to accept that this was the end. Because if no-one ever saw her lying still and no-one ever etched her name onto a cold gravestone, then there was always the hope...

No. There had been several dozen witnesses who'd said that Trudy's Samson had taken a Dragon missile full-on after already being set aflame. No craft survived that. All had sung the praises of the beautiful, valiant flier who had helped to rid Pandora of corruption, but all accepted that she had paid the ultimate sacrifice to do so. They all believed Trudy was gone now, and there was no bringing her back.

And now Norm had to believe that too.

_I'm sorry, Trudy. I'm so, so sorry. _The heartbroken, fervent thought was all Norm could summon the energy to come up with as he moved like a ghost through the busy RDA center. As he stood, staring at the scene of efficient urgency and bustling doctors, Norm realised that the loss of a friend was something that never went away.

* * *

It was a miracle that she was alive.

But being alive also hurt like a bitch.

Trudy was in a very bad condition as she lay where she had fallen, surrounded by the shards of her Samson which had followed her down to the ground. Her skin was lacerated and cut all over her body, she had multiple burns and a likelihood of broken bones. She couldn't move, couldn't speak, couldn't cry. She was only conscious for a few, fleeting moments and everything else was a haze of darkness.

In the moments of wakefulness, all she was aware of was the agony encasing her entire being, as well as a sense of cold fear. She was lucid enough to know that she was alone in the middle of the forest and there was nobody who knew where she was. Hell, everybody would think she was dead. After all, no-one would have realised that when her Samson exploded, she hadn't gone with it. A few eagle-eyed beings might have seen her beloved craft go down, but who would have spotted the tiny figure plummeting down amidst all the chaos?

She wasn't supposed to be alive. She had offered to let death lead her by the hand, yet for some reason it had pushed her away. And now, as she lay suffering and helpless, she wondered whether she was the most fortunate or the least fortunate person on Pandora.

Yes, she had cheated death. But it was almost not worth it, because her body felt like it had been sliced into pieces and left out to burn in the sun. As Trudy slipped out of a spell of unconsciousness, her thoughts were dazed. Her Exopack must have been left undamaged, considering she was currently still breathing. (Just about, anyway.)

Apart from that, however, Trudy couldn't think of anything else that worked properly. She tried to keep as still as possible, since moving even the slightest bit set off an explosion of agony. She was aware of a stabbing pain in her abdomen, as well as the fiery sting of multiple surface injuries and countless bruises. Her shoulder was also unmoveable.

There was no way of telling how long she had been out here. Trudy only knew that she was gradually growing more light-headed and the patches of consciousness were growing more hazy. She tried to part her cracked lips and make a noise, any noise, just to reassure herself that she was still in control of her body. That she still had a chance.

Nothing came out. She was helpless and dying on the forest floor, surrounded by the unnerving chattering of Pandora's strange inhabitants. The trees seemed to sway sadly, groaning out to her as the wind passed them.

_No-one's coming for you, Chacon. You don't get any more shots at life. _

Trudy swallowed, though her throat was already dry. Blackness began to claim her again as her brain pushed her confused thoughts towards happy memories to protect her from the pain. If these were here last moments, then they weren't going to be full of fear and sorrow. Instead, Trudy's mind drifted to memories of the glorious three months before the battle. Memories of a friend she never expected to make.

_I'm sorry, Norm._

_I tried._

**Author's Note: Don't be sad. I can fix her. ^_^ If you want me to, that is. Drop me a line if you enjoyed this and want to read more, 'cause I don't want to continue something that no-one wants to see. There's potential in this for a good few chapters, so hit that review button now!**


	2. I See You Again

**Author's Note: You have my huge apologies for my being a slow writer. When I started, I was all "Ooh yeah, I'm going to be really good with my updates", but as it turns out, I'm not. Thanks to all those who reviewed, added to favourites and put on alert. =) Your reward is a new chapter and a virtual cupcake.**** Enjoy!**

**Oh, and when the Na'vi talk together in here, it's done in English so you can actually understand it (and because I have no idea about Na'vi), but technically they're speaking in their own tongue. There **_**is**_** a crude attempt at real Na'vi at one point, so forgive me. ^_^ Anyway, on with the story...**

**

* * *

  
**

It was funny. When the RDA operations were in full swing, the aircraft hanger was always noisy, smelly, busy and full of overly-muscular marines. Norm had always wished it could be quieter and less packed with people who could beat him up with their little fingers.

And now that's exactly what it was like. It was completely empty now, save for a few silent crafts whose pilots were most likely on their forced voyage back to earth. Or dead. One or the other. Norm was sitting on the embossed metal platform leading out from one of the research offices, legs dangling over the edge. There were no raucous voices booming out over the hum of machinery now; Norm was the only person in the hangar.

He wished he wasn't.

He wished the silence would give way to the noise he'd once found so distasteful, because when it was like this, there was too much abnormality. This wasn't _right._ He looked out over the unmoving Samsons and Scorpions all lined up in a row and wondered what would happen to them now there were so few left who knew how to pilot them.

And then his eyes fell upon the empty space in between the spaces for Samson-15 and Samson-17. The space where _her_ Samson should have been. Norm ran his hands through his hair agitatedly and leaned on the metal railing in front of him, thinking over all the times he had seen her land in that very spot with her carefree ease, hopping out of her cockpit with a lazy smile.

_Any second now, she'll be flying back here and landing in her space, just like she always does. _Norm almost allowed himself to believe this delusion, but he had always been an intelligent man, and he didn't like misinformation.

What was he going to do with himself now? He couldn't explore Pandora in the way he had been able to when he had an Avatar. He didn't have a pilot now, either. Not now that Trudy wasn't here. How would he get around? Would there be other non-military pilots? There wouldn't be any like her; that was for sure. There wasn't anyone on Earth or Pandora like Trudy.

Now he was sitting in the hangar where Trudy could so often be found, Norm found his thoughts hopelessly fixed upon memories of her. He found himself remembering a scene which had taken place just a few weeks back –

"_Why d'you become a pilot, anyway?" Norm asked from the co-pilot's seat, tilting his head to look at Trudy, whose face was mostly obscured by her helmet and sunglasses. She glanced at him briefly, and he watched her eyebrows raise. _

"_So I can drop people a hundred miles from the ground when they piss me off." She replied cheekily. "Spellman, who _wouldn't_ want to fly? Come on, you can't say you're not enjoying the view." She'd grinned as she said it, tipping her head in a gesture towards the impressive Pandoran landscape surrounding them, all without taking her eyes off her flight path. _

_He _was_ enjoying the view, and not just of Pandora. But he certainly wasn't going to say that, because he would probably risk being pushed out of the Samson altogether. "I'd better not piss you off then." was his semi-serious reply. He had rather thought that Trudy would prefer to simply punch whoever pissed her off in the face, but it _was_ true that she seemed to like everything more when it was off the ground. Maybe revenge was the same._

"_Yeah, well, it's really just 'cause... It's free up here, you know?" She temporarily looked at him to see if he was following, and Norm gave her a half-understanding, half-confused look, which made her chuckle lightly. _

"_You'd know what I meant if you could fly." Trudy then declared, still looking at him as if she were considering something. He met her gaze, or at least what he took to be her gaze through the dark sunglasses, and she just chewed her gum thoughtfully for a moment._

"_One of these days I'm gonna have to teach you to fly this thing." Trudy patted the control stick between her knees and smiled even more broadly. "Yeah, that'll do it. Time you got your ass off the ground for real."_

- Norm shut his eyes, resting his head on his arms. He remembered that Trudy had made him to agree somewhat reluctantly, even though he couldn't exactly imagine himself piloting an armed aircraft like her Samson. But now he couldn't think of anything he wouldn't give up to have Trudy be able to bully him into sharing her world in the sky. Now that it was too late. It turned out that she hadn't had the time to teach him, and he felt like he would never get off the ground again.

He was stuck at rock bottom.

Norm walked slowly over to her Samson's empty space, shutting his eyes and thinking about the last time the two of them were there. It wasn't a happy memory, because it was the night when Quaritch had put a fatal bullet through Grace. But it had also been when Norm's faith in Trudy was solidified to an unshakeable level when she'd defied all expectations and, quite frankly, had put them all to shame for doubting her.

She hadn't fired on the Na'vi. In fact, she'd turned around and flown away, and Norm had never been as proud of anyone as he was in that moment of revelation. There had been no doubt about it: Trudy Chacon was a superhero.

She'd even managed to evade the worst of Quaritch's wrath by spinning a story about technical problems with the Samson, although he gathered that there had been a spirited exchange of words between the two, to put it gently.

Norm suddenly realised that everything had rested upon Trudy's decision to free him, Grace and Jake from their imprisonment. What would have happened if she hadn't done that? Would the Na'vi have beaten Quaritch's forces without their Toruk Makto? Without someone to rally the forces and unite the clans? No. They wouldn't. And would Jake have ever been able to do all he did without Trudy? No. He wouldn't.

Trudy saved them all.

Trudy had saved Pandora and she paid the highest price for it.

Whatever happened to _Eywa will provide?_

_

* * *

  
_

_Sixty-six minutes and forty-two seconds._

_Sixty-six minutes and forty-three seconds._

_Sixty-six minutes and forty-four seconds._

Each passing second was a long time when you were bleeding your life away in a darkening forest. Trudy was half-aware of the time rolling on, but she had real judgement of how long she had really been lying, broken and burnt on the Pandoran soil. She was beyond the point of recognising the agony her body was in now; her grip on consciousness was weakening by the second.

There was no saving grace.

Her mind was starting to play cruel tricks on her now. It gave her false hope every so often when she thought she heard the hum of an aircraft, or caught a glimpse of a familiar face through her half-open, unfocused eyes. It wasn't true; just the product of her feverish mind distorting a shadow or the chattering of a prolemuris. No-one was anywhere near this place and she was more likely to be found by a hungry, clawed beast than by a friendly face.

So when the rhythmic pounding of hooves over the soft earth started up, Trudy refused to feel a flicker of hope. Hope was dead, and soon she would be too. She couldn't hold on much longer.

"Pey! Tsatseng!"

Huh. The Great Mother must have really had it in for her. Not only was she dying slowly and painfully, but she had apparently started to lose her marbles too. Imagining voices was never a good thing, was it?

"Lu nìwin" The voice was getting louder. Maybe it was the sound of wherever it was you went after you died... It must mean that she was getting closer to it. Maybe sweet relief from her suffering was within sight.

"Oe kame nga, tsmuké!"

For a figment of her imagination, that voice was damn persistent. And... What was that? The six-fold thudding of hooves sounded so close now, slowing down to a gentle trot. Then there was no noise for a few heartbeats, until suddenly, stooped in front of her was a tall, blurry blue figure.

_If I find out this was Jake playing jokes on me again, I'm gonna kick his ass into the next century... _The passing thought gave way to unconsciousness again. The voices faded to a blurred hum that held no meaning to her ears, washing over her like a wave might roll over the seashore. Perhaps it would all be better when she woke up again.

"Ay, it is the friend of the Na'vi, she still lives!"

"Be careful! She is very weak. Bring her to Olo'eyktan at once!"

"Do not touch the mask. _Careful_, Txe'lan!"

The search parties were sweeping the forest for survivors, but none had gone so far as this. There were three: Txe'lan, Irayo and Tsmuke, and none had expected to find the noble friend of Jake Sully alive after seeing her burning sky-ship being shot down. They had seen the fireball come blazing down and had felt sorrow that one of Jakesully's friends was dead.

But they hadn't considered the possibility that she was alive.

Yet here she was lying on the ground, no bigger than a young Na'vi child. The three searchers were all too aware of the fragility of the Sky People and were afraid any attempts to help would only harm the tiny, damaged creature even more. They deliberated silently for a moment, but finally acknowledged that they had to act immediately.

"Mawey, Tsmuke! I am being careful." Txe'lan was the one to move first. He lifted the injured stranger with such care that it was as if she would shatter under the slightest pressure, and given the number of wounds criss-crossing her body, this seemed almost true.

"She clings to life with all her strength." Tsmuke looked upon the human with a mixture of reverence and fear. "We must be swift, or her strength will not be enough. Come!" With the agility shared by all Na'vi, Tsmuke swung onto her direhorse and broke into a steady charge, Irayo following suit. Txe'lan balanced his burden as carefully as he could, trying to keep her from being jolted as he too mounted and began to head for home

It was a difficult thing, riding with such a badly wounded passenger. Txe'lan winced each time his direhorse moved slightly too jerkily and realised it was probably a good thing that the human woman was unconscious. He did not like to imagine the pain she would be feeling right now and hoped that she was not suffering whilst unconscious. As he glanced down at her, he saw her expression was peaceful and for a moment he was afraid that her life was gone. The faint beating of her heart reminded him otherwise, though it was little reassurance.

What if she didn't make it? She had fought so hard for this long; yet she was in a very bad way. Txe'lan urged his mount to run faster, for once in his life willing the ugly grey constructions of the Sky People to loom into view, because they alone would know how to fix the broken body of one of their own.

It was strange that Txe'lan should be carrying one of the Sky People and struggling to save her life so soon after he had fought against her race. But he had not fought against _her, _because all the Na'vi knew that there was one to whom a debt was owed for endless selflessness, and he was holding that one now.

And she was dying. Txe'lan could almost sense her spirit aching to be released from the pain of her damaged physical form, yet still she did not join the Great Mother. There could be no reason for her to have survived other than that it was not yet her time. Eywa protected only the balance of life, and it seemed that, at least for now, to take this life would be to tip the balance wrongly.

"Don't give up. Don't give up." Txe'lan muttered in his own tongue, knowing his words were unheard and uncomprehended.

After what seemed the longest ride of his life, Txe'lan saw the trees of the forest thin out abruptly as the stony, alien camp of the Sky People grew near. Txe'lan felt a flood of relief as he rode all the way to the large-doored entrance, calling for someone, anyone to assist.

"Rawke, rawke! Where are your healers? She does not have long!" The unfamiliar language of the Sky People came roughly from his tongue as he dismounted and crossed the cold rock underfoot with long strides. He felt a flash of agitation as the Sky People responded too slowly to his call, milling about as their alarm grew. There were several startled-looking people in white garments who came to him, finally beginning to act.

Injured Na'vi and humans alike were being brought to the RDA base on a vast scale as they were recovered from the battlefield. The knowledge of healing the Sky People had seemed to be working miracles, and Txe'lan found himself for the first time thanking the aliens' intervention. Their race was so destructive, so selfish; always taking what was not theirs to take. Yet for once they were repairing what they had broken, helping to mend the wounds which now ran so deep.

A hive of activity had swarmed up at last as the humans wheeled a long, flat object out through the double doors of the RDA base. Txe'lan felt out of his depth now, surrounded by these strangers who were talking in a low, fast hum, approaching him with bizarre contraptions and staring in shock at the woman he had brought.

Some clearly recognised her.

"It's _Trudy_. My God, look at the state of her! Oh my God, quick!"

"They said she was dead!"

"Stop standing around gawping! Get her inside _now_, idiots!"

When that last, commanding voice spoke out, arms suddenly began taking the human from Txe'lan's grasp, laying her on the flat, metal bed they had brought out. It took mere seconds for her to be whisked away with a group of frantic-looking humans pushing her through the mouth of the alien camp, swallowing her into the dimly-lit interior beyond his view.

Txe'lan only looked on with sombre golden eyes, his expression unchanging. The Great Mother alone would decide whether that human would live or die, for no matter how powerful the Sky People might call themselves, they would never rise over the balance of life and death.

His duty was done.

* * *

Norm had quickly dodged his way through a ridiculously crowded section of the RDA medical complex, grimacing as he saw battered and bruised survivors left and right. He pushed through the heavy doors and found himself in one of the outer sections of the base. It was relatively quiet; something which seemed odd to him because he was fairly sure the hallway he stood in now was adjacent to a treatment room.

With the current high demand on all medical staff and equipment, surely this room ought to be bustling with patients? Norm contemplated this briefly, trying to determine exactly _which_ medical lab lay behind the metal doors to his right.

It was only when a sudden tornado of urgency and medical efficiency came charging through the swing-doors which led from the entrance of the base that Norm realised why this area was quieter than the rest. Next door was not just a hospital room; it was an emergency room where the most critical patients were taken for immediate treatment.

A high proportion of those who were wheeled through those doors would be wheeled back out again in a long wooden box. They would not walk, or run, or jump again. They would be lost forever down that corridor.

And now another of these patients had clearly just been brought in. A team of strained-looking doctors and medical staff in pristine overalls and gloves were wheeling a stretcher over the slate-grey tiles in a great hurry, talking in an urgent hum and administering syringes of unidentifiable medication as they went.

Whoever it was laying on that trolley was clearly a cause for high concern. Under the mask of practised coolness and forced calm, there was a sense of charged anxiety. Voices were low, fast and salient and many spoke at once, listing a dizzying number of drugs and treatments which needed to be prepared instantly.

If the medical team had not been so occupied with this patient, Norm felt sure he would have been thrown out immediately. This was a high-concern area; random scientists were not supposed to wander through as they pleased. But as it was, the doctors were fully focused on the figure laid out on the crisp white of the moveable bed.

Norm darted out of the way to avoid being run over by the rapidly approaching group, unable to stop himself from indulging in his morbid curiosity by seeking out the identity of the patient, looking down at the stretcher-trolley through the throng of medics.

He nearly died on the spot.

He could have sworn his heart had fallen through his ribcage and stopped beating right there and then. His throat closed up and his head felt light and he felt himself shaking.

On that stretcher lay simultaneously the most joyous and most horrible of sights he would ever see. He did not know how he could feel such a bolt of happiness and a stab of horror in one single moment, but as soon as his mind made sense of what his eyes were seeing, that was exactly what he felt.

Dark hair. Small body. Smeared blue war-paint. A terrifying amount of blood.

It was her. He was sure... It... It couldn't... She was supposed to be dead! But it _was_ her.

Norm staggered closer, trying to push past a nurse to get a better look.

"I have to... Let me... Please!" He was stopped where he stood by the irate young woman who rounded on him, eyes flashing angrily.

"Are you _insane_? What are you doing here? Get out! Can't you see we've got an emergency?" She pushed him roughly as the trolley bearing the latest inpatient was whisked away, carted straight through the double swing-doors and into the treatment room within.

With one last glare, the nurse hurried to rejoin the crisis while Norm stared after the group in a state of complete shock. The doors swung slightly as they slowed to a stop, gently coming to rest. Whatever was occurring inside that room was beyond his sight now, and he was desperate to know. To see for himself. To be sure...

He was already sure. She was in there. It was definitely her. And while Norm should have been in a state of complete panic over her critical state, he felt his heart thumping hard with hope again, because now there was something to hope for.

She was so broken on that trolley and it had hurt him just to see her. But there was no despair in him, because...

It was her.

She was alive.

Trudy was alive.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed it.**

**If you have a spare minute, please let me know what you thought by reviewing now. =) **

**With regards to the next chapter, I have absolutely no idea when it'll be up. I tend to write mostly at the weekend. If you want to check the status of the next chapter, I usually put a note on my profile page whenever I write a bit more, so have a look on there. Thank you for reading!**

**Edit as of 15-03-10: Urgh. Really sorry, I managed to upload it without putting in appropriate POV breaks and I only just realised. I fixed it, though!**


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